Ananbeth
The Hunter all but squeaked as he continued to work the soft swell, squirming fruitlessly in his grip. The motions inadvertently caused his seed to stir about inside of her, drawing a moan from the Hunter as he held her close, the smell of cum, alcohol filling her nose, and the tiny stinging annoyances where he'd scratched her in the grip of passion making themselves known. Had she been more lucid, Annabeth might have noted how his breathing sounded markedly deeper as his head rested against his, but in her current state it barely registered. She shifted dully at his question, his words registering clearly in spite of everything else.
"...Y-yeah," she managed to get out, her face going red anew as she stayed there, still impaled on his shaft as he held her close.